


You've Got a Hollow-point Smile

by gravy_noodles



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F, Road Trips, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gravy_noodles/pseuds/gravy_noodles
Summary: "Your hand is on the steering wheel while the other taps out a rhythm from a time lost next to the gearshift. Midwest summer sun warms the leather seats of Gideon, your worn but trusty pickup. A dusty breeze tries to cool you off. The windows are down, you’ve a full tank of gas, and she’s riding shotgun next to you."With a shotgun.Avalance Zombie!AU





	You've Got a Hollow-point Smile

Desolate wastelands blur as they fly by you. They weren’t technically wastelands, but what else does one call the rural nothingness of the northern Midwest? It was all grain and corn and houses that looked one stiff wind away from clattering to the dirt. 

Though, that’s not fair. 

Sometimes there’s a tree. 

Your hand is on the steering wheel while the other taps out a rhythm from a time lost next to the gearshift. Midwest summer sun warms the leather seats of Gideon, your worn but trusty pickup. A dusty breeze tries to cool you off. The windows are down, you’ve a full tank of gas, and she’s riding shotgun next to you.

With a shotgun.

A grim smile twists its way onto your face as you think back to how it all started…

X   
Before going dark, news outlets and blogs had been warning about several incidences of mass violence and unstable crowds. You’d seen the little old lady down the street attack your next-door neighbor. Poor Karen; that unfortunate chatterbox either had never seen a zombie flick, or had no sense of self-preservation. 

Sucks to suck, Karen. 

You, however, had cringed through sagas of undead cinema, and had begun packing every necessity into your duffel after that. You knew that Karen would come back, quieter but just as annoying. You also knew that staying put was a sure-fire way to meet a grizzly end; moving meant surviving. By the time the electrical grid had cut out, you and Oscar, your pit bull, had been long gone.

X

“Where’s your head gone?” Her voice brings you out of your memory, and you glance over. She smiles, and gently slides her hand into yours. As her thumb rolls over your knuckles, you can’t help but smile back.

“Nowhere new, just thinking back,” you reply, giving her hand a squeeze.

“How far back?” She asks, even though you both know the answer.

“To the start.”

“What took you there?”

“I dunno, just my mind wandering I guess, thinking ‘bout how a babe like you wound up in Gideon.”

She laughs, a full sound that you bask in as though it is the sun.

“I still think it’s cute, how you named your truck,” she replies, running a hand through her hair. “You offered the ride, and in times like these, how could I have said no?” The cheeky smile she shoots your way sends a quiver through your veins, and not just because you know the ride hadn’t been offered as much as granted.

You both know that the desperation of the moment also contributed to the present situation: 

X

A few days after your departure, you and Oscar had been raiding a small gas station off Route 77 when she’d come sprinting up. You were wary but impressed; sprinting with a shotgun and a full camping pack was not an easy feat for someone so slight. Then again, why was she sprinting? The sinking feeling in your gut had coupled with the fear on her face, giving you the answer you had known you’d find.

“Why couldn’t it be a horde of puppies, for once,” you had grumbled to Oscar, who had woofed his agreement.

Breathlessly, honey hair flying, she’d warned you that a large group of them were coming, and could you please take her with you? 

The moans and noises were getting louder, and you could see shadows shuffling closer just down the block. You had looked back at her, reasoned that you could take her down if she tried to take advantage, and nodded.

“Yeah, you can ride with us. If you try anything, I’ve no problem leaving you off.”

“Cool, and if you try anything, I’ll shoot you.” Her grin had been vicious, the baring of teeth only a survivor could manage. You had found it mesmerizing, and had grinned back. A mutual understanding had clicked into place.

You’d whistled for Oscar, and started your truck. When they rounded the corner, the stench alone could have killed you. She had scrambled up, clinging onto the open door as you began to push the accelerator. You both remember the closeness of your mortalities, and only remembering to breathe when the…things had been left far behind, in the dust. You both remember not knowing each other’s names until the third day of your journey, something you both still laugh about.  
X

“Shit, babe, we’re almost out of water,” she mumbled, and you internally repeat her curse. 

“Yeah, we should probably get some. Do you know if there’s a gas station or something around here?”

“Yeah, I think there’s a strip mall or something about a mile down,” she replied, and without looking you know that her forehead’s scrunched in a (adorable) contemplative frown. “There might be a Walmart or something there, I definitely remember it had some kinda big department store.”

“Personally, I hope it’s Target,” you say.

“Why? They don’t – didn’t sell any kind of firepower,” she points out.

“Yeah, that’s kinda why I enjoyed going there, no fear of being shot up by some bullshit racist asshole.”

“While I definitely agree, I just want to remind you that in our current situation, a Walmart might do us some good.” Her lips twist in a frown as she mumbles, 

“Especially since my shells aren’t exactly of unlimited supply.”

She’s right, and you both know it. You take her hand, gently, and squeeze.

“Next exit, then.”

X

The first couple of days had been uncomfortable, for both of you. Oscar hadn’t cared; he was in for the ride and freedom to mark everything as his. You two humans, however, stayed wary of each other. Despite your mistrust, you had begun establishing a routine, and had worked quite well together. On the third night, you’d decided that it was warm enough to camp under the stars. There had been one problem:

“You don’t know how to light a fire?”

“I lived in a city, our fires were artificial,” you had responded, a little defensively. “Well, except for some of the literal garbage fires…”

“Okay, cool, and so you decided to camp without knowing one of the most basic and necessary elements?” You had heard a smile in her voice. You had also heard what could have been a pun…was it?

“I didn’t know it’d be this hard!” You had slumped, your pathetic attempt at fire smoking uselessly. In your defense, the fires you had used over the past few days had already been burning; you hadn’t needed to know.

“Here, let me?” Her voice had been gentler, almost apologizing for teasing you.

A half hour later, a small fire had been crackling cheerily, unaware of what the world had become. You had both sat on opposite sides, eating warmed cans of chili and keeping your ears open. Oscar made his place by your feet, begging-but-totally-not-begging for a bite of beans and beef.

“So. How do you know how to make fire?” You had asked, slipping him a small portion. He had snuffled appreciatively.

“Girl Scouts – not just for cookies,” she had quipped, smiling. You had nodded, humming you acknowledgment.

“Were you living in Cleveland?” She had fired back.

“Buffalo, actually,” you’d responded, meeting her eyes. 

“Ahh yes, the Cleveland of New York,” she had leaned back, relaxing.

“I…guess?” 

“You don’t know what to do with that, do you?”

“Not really, no,” you had laughed, mirroring her position.

“It’s okay,” she had replied, fully smiling at you, “most of my family and friends don’t – didn’t,” she had stopped; face falling as she’d realized her mistake. Something   
in your chest had trembled at that flash of misery. “They didn’t know what to do with half the shit I said, either.”

You had raised an eyebrow in reply.

“Feel free to just smile and nod, that’s sorta par for the course,” she had gone on to say, her smile back. You had marveled at it, amazed that she could bounce back – or at least, pretend to well enough to genuinely smile at, essentially, a stranger during what was probably classifiable as an “apocalypse.”

“I’m Ava,” she’d said after a moment of comfortable silence. 

“Sara,” you’d smiled back.

“Friends?”

“Yeah.”

Oscar had whuffed gently; his introduction.

X

The parking lot looked like a giant child had forgotten to pick up after they’d finished playing with their cars: minivans and pickups overlapped, some perpendicular, some still in their orderly parking spot. Some of the chasses were burnt out, scorched from the equation of gasoline and sparks. 

Thankfully, there weren’t many cars, so the anxiety you feel buzzing through your veins softens to a muted hum. There’s an escape route, or three at least.

Her thumb runs over your knuckles; she’s found them, too, and it might be for her comfort as well as your own. It doesn’t matter, because you both relax a little bit more, and breath more readily.

“This should take us ten minutes, twenty tops,” you state, turning to her. 

“I’ve got the list, let’s get what we need and get gone,” she agrees, nodding at you before leaning across the console to firmly connect your lips. You sigh against her, reveling in how remarkable soft she is and how good she smells – seriously, how?! your mind screams joyously – and kiss her back, reaching up to cradle her face. It’s a promise, that you won’t leave, that she won’t leave, that you’ve both got each other.

X

You don’t remember exactly when you in love. Maybe it had been the time the car broke down and she’d stood watch while you operated on the engine. Maybe it was after she’d yanked you up in the nick of time, saving you from becoming an undead main course. Maybe it was the countless times you’d found yourselves back to back, fighting to escape a tight situation. Or maybe it had been over the course of little things, like how her eyes softened when she cuddled Oscar – despite her avowed love of cats. Or when you’d both gone through bottles of top-shelf rum and had ended up confessing the parts of your lives that you’d not mentally touched – her adoption, the death of your sister…

Some wounds would never stop bleeding.

You had kissed her that night, reveling in the softness of her cheek under your hand. Maybe it had been the alcohol, and the fire, and the stars, and her serious eyes sparkling and sparking something inside of you. The cause had not mattered to you; the feel of her lips on yours, sweet with rum and slightly chapped, had been much more important. It had not mattered how you both had gotten there, because there you were. 

Oscar had dutifully kept watch a respectable distance away.

X

Inside the Walmart is creepy – in fairness, Walmart had been creepy even when the living had dominated the earth. Their absence makes the vast space, darkened and dusty, even more eerie. You’ve never been able to shake how wrong it feels, and though you know it’s not true you feel like an intruder where you had once felt utterly…well, not that. At least you’re both armed; you adjust your grip on your gun

Your “shopping” doesn’t take long at all, not with both of you split between every other aisle. Ava takes care of canned goods, water, and toilet tissue. You grab ammunition, fuel, and food for Oscar. Something shining, dulled a bit by dust, catches your eye. A sad grin breaks out over your face as you run a finger over the leather seat of the motorcycle. It would’ve been so much fun to pilfer, but now, with your small family, it would just add to the burden of supplying and resupplying. 

Also, you think, chuckling inwardly, Ava would murder you.

It’s nice to dream, you suppose. 

You’re both headed towards the exit when you hear the tell-tale shuffle echoing through the megastore. Alarm zaps you, and your eyes widen as you turn to look for Ava, needing to see her for communication and for reassurance. The tightness of her jaw and the way her nose flares tells you all you need to know: she’s heard it too. 

Trying to find the source of the noise is a fool’s errand, and you both start making for the brightness of the outdoors as quickly and quietly as possible.

You almost make it out.

If you had thought to just double-fucking-bag, then the small rip in Ava’s plastic bag wouldn’t have been steadily widening, the heavy, rounded edge of a can helping peel back the flimsy material.

But you didn’t think to, because your mind was focused on getting out as fast as you could.

You didn’t think to because you’re a fucking idiot.

You didn’t think to, and now Ava’s sheet-white and trying not to let out a sob as cans of food clatter onto the floor. The cavernous building makes it sound like a marching band riding an avalanche, and you know that that’s sealed your fate. She tries to move towards you, but more contents spill from the bag and she freezes.

It leads the creature right to you. Annoying, but there’s two of you and only one of it, so it’ll be easy to take care of. 

“Sara, GO!” Ava screams. You’re confused: why is she telling you to go? Can’t she see that there’s only one creature?

“Ava, there’s only o-” you cut off as you actually take in Ava, turned to the left, horror seizing her face. Slowly, you follow her gaze, stomach falling and heartbeat rising as you see what she sees.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK.

The store portion, the “front of house,” of course, might have only the one creature staggering through it. The warehouse, the storage area where employees once went to restock or smoke or cry, however, was a dangerous area that neither of you had considered. You’d both done this so many times, why would you have had to? 

Now you watched, helplessly, as Ava stared down a horde of creatures barely feet away.

Fucking fuck fuck – 

“Ava, get over here now, let’s GO!” You scream, holding your hand out. She could still make it if she sprinted, right? Right? You start jogging a few steps, getting momentum going so you can both make it out. She began sprinting, legs putting distance between herself and death. You turn around, knowing that she’s with you. 

It’s a mistake that you will never forget, nor forgive yourself for. You will always think, in idle moments where your mind has no task occupying it, Why did I look away? There is something to be said about the power of seeing: somehow, we all feel more in control when our eyes possess the images in front of us. Not seeing is not having control; what can you do about something when you cannot see it? In that moment, you gave up your individual power in the escape. You could have prevented what came next, if you had somehow. Just. Been. Watching.

As you made it out the doors, Ava stumbled on a can. It rolled, taking her back and away from you, physics working against life. Her fall took a century, and all you could do was hold out your hand as your heartbeat roared in your ears. Her wide, fearful and shocked eyes seared themselves to yours, and vaguely you felt rather than heard screaming. From the floor, she held your gaze fiercely. There is too much space between you both.

“Sara, GET OUT OF HERE, GO!”

“Ava, no, I can’t, I won’t, I -”

“SARA!” She screamed, slamming her palm on the ground as the groans and shuffling grew louder. “SARA, FUCKING GO OR WE’RE BOTH DEAD!”

“I don’t -”

“GO! I’ll be alright, Sara,” she smiles, weakly and you both know she doesn’t mean what she’s saying. “You need to go or this won’t be worth anything.”   
You’re both crying, now. The zombies – fucking zombies – are closer, one of them close enough to start taking swipes at her. She shoots it, and you both breathe for a second.

“Ava, I love you.” It’s not the first time you say it, and you don’t want it to be the last.

“I love you back, Sara,” she replies, looking solemnly at you. Your staredowns were always intense, a way of communicating silently that only the two of you understood.

Oscars howling brings you back, and you turn towards the truck, only to curse violently. 

Creatures are ambling in from all angles, too close to your car for comfort, and Oscar’s pawing at the cracked window, doing all he can do. You turn between Ava and Oscar. A plan, desperate and fucking stupid, forms in your mind and it’s a Hail Mary if it works, but it’s the only plan you have in this hell right now so you’re fucking going to take it.

“Ava, I’m coming back for you.” She smiles at you, even though you can see that she doesn’t fully believe you.

You grab a nearby cart and toss your items in it, wincing as your back twinges sharply. Definitely gotta toss with not that, you think. You then turn, charging down the parking lot. A zombie jumps out from behind an SUV, and you decimate its skull with a bullet. Not breaking your pace, you leap onto the roof of an Audi. It’s five cars until you reach yours, and you bound over the vehicles. The detached part of you that is actively dissociating from the situation amuses itself grimly by noting that this would be so badass if the matter was relegated to a movie screen and not your real life. Something that isn’t Oscar moves by the door of your truck, and you shoot it. The movement stops, and you hurriedly unlock the passenger’s side and scramble in. The door closes, and you lock it immediately before jamming the key in the ignition and twisting. 

The roar of your engine is the best noise you’ve heard in the last twenty minutes, and you tear out of your spot, tires screeching a song of escape against asphalt.  
As walking, ravenous corpses hit your bumper, you think that it’s like a video game, but terrible. Slamming your foot down, you make quick work of the creatures in your way. 

“Move it or lose it, asshats!” The scream is feral, and you are wild. You are a survivor, and now that you have something to live for, you will not go gentle into that violent, slow death of a night. Finally, you hit the breaks, sending a creature holding onto the door handle flying, only to splatter against a Toyota in a sick Pollock imitation.

Your eyes scan frantically for the honey hair of your heart, even as you open your door to quickly snag the items you’d placed in the cart. As you yank the fuel up and deposit it in your cab, your back twinges again, this time with pain licking a fiery path up your spine and into your neck.

That’s gonna be real bad news. You grimace and lock the door again, items safely inside the cab of your truck. 

The Walmart doors open, and your heart drops, settling sickly in your stomach. Ava does not come sprinting out; instead, the mass of undead shuffle through, homing in on the noise of your car. 

Half of you wants to scream grief into the uncaring, unfeeling horde. The other half is a cold, numb, vengeful animal that takes practiced aim and drops five zombies in a quick succession of exploding rot and brains. You want nothing more than to run out and mow down a path, to find her, but that would lead to ruin. Her death would be for naught, and your family would have perished at Walmart.

After all that, dying in a goddamn Walmart.

Defeat surges into your heart, bleak and grey and devastating. It was a good plan, but the creatures are drawing closer and you only have so much ammo to spare. You wind the window up, watching as they advance. Tears slide down your face as you begin to accept the hopelessness and failure that you’ve become, that the last half hour has reduced you to. Oscar whines, nudging you with his head. You reach back and scratch behind his ears, trying to reassure and comfort him in what you feel are your final moments.

A hacking growl rips through the air, and you look back up to face your demise. Instead of certain doom, however, headlights break over the decayed heads advancing on you. At first, you think that you’re hallucinating, some kind of imminent death mental break or some shit like that, but then the creature reaching towards your window topples as its skull explodes. 

Confusion blossoms into hope and into joy as you watch Ava, glorious Ava, plow through zombies on the back of the motorcycle you’d been admiring earlier. Her hair flows from beneath the black helmet. 

It’s a life or death situation, but...daaaaaaamn! 

You tuck that thought, and the heat that shoots through you, away for later; you both still need to make tracks and survive this.

In one hand, she controls the bike, weaving as though it’s her second nature. In the other, she’s holding a sawed off, firing rounds with surprisingly deadly accuracy. Honestly, it’s like something out of a film. You can’t make out what’s in her lap, but you need to help her. She’s coming to you, and you’d made a promise.   
Shots ring out, and slowly the horde dwindles, lead seeds buried in decomposed heads. The motorcycle skids to a stop, still growling as she yanks the helmet off, grinning breathlessly for you. 

“Good of you to keep the engine running,” she quips. 

“I said I’d be back for you,” you smirk as you slide out of the driver seat. She meets you halfway, crashing her lips against yours. It’s not a graceful kiss, but she’s there and you’re flooded with everything that is her, and you hold her tightly, gasping for her like she’s air. Her right hand tangles in your hair, and you feel five points of pressure against your scalp, tugging you closer. 

I’m okay, I’m here, I’ve got you, it says. 

Realistically, you’ve only kissed for like five seconds, but it feels both like a lifetime and not long enough when Ava pulls away to rest her forehead against yours. Her fingers knead lightly down your neck, reassuring and relaxing the tension.

“How about we pick this up when we’re outta dodge?”

“I thought I’d lost you, Aves,” you bite out, trying not to sob.

“I know, babe, I know, but I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” she kisses your forehead before lifting the item in her left hand:

“Have you been holding that this whole time?”

She looks down at the bag full of canned goods and grins before gently ribbing you:

“Well, someone needs her chilli fix, and I wasn’t about to disappoint.” You roll your eyes and groan as you lift the bag from her, turning to place it in the bed of the truck.

“You’re hilarious.” She winks and your heart performs Riverdance on your stomach. “Now get in the car and let’s go.” It’s a command and a request, and you plead with your eyes.

“Aye-aye, Captain Lance,” Ava salutes with a cheeky smile.

**Author's Note:**

> * Brought to you by delayed trains, My Chemical Romance, and espresso  
> ** All mistakes and good parts are my own  
> *** Hi! Long time reader, now I get to properly take part and it's very exciting. I'm v open to any and all constructive criticism; I love telling stories and want to get better at it!
> 
> TUNES for this WORK:  
> Bulletproof Heart (MCR)  
> Arise (Fragics)


End file.
